A Time For Giving
by The Accidental Scribe
Summary: Christmas - A time for giving and forgiving as the saying goes. Martin is about to experience the meaning of it - in big way.
1. Chapter 1

Martin Ellingham woke from a restless sleep to the sound of rain lashing on the roof of the surgery. It hadn't let up since the day before and he scowled as he remembered that he'd been soaked to the skin by the time he'd returned from a house call the previous evening. Mr Routledge! That moronic, whinging, hypochondriacal, manipulating, time waster. The man was a pest and, in his opinion, needed psychological evaluation because of his propensity for finding the most trivial of ailments with which to irritate his GP. Last night had been touch and go whether he'd refused to make the house call on the grounds that Mr Routledge had wasted his time on at least five previous occasions. But he couldn't refuse. With his luck, the one time he didn't go, Mr Routledge would actually have something wrong with him.

Martin could hear the muted sound of waves battering against the cliffs beyond the breakwater. In the almost five years he'd been in Portwenn he still hadn't grown used to these unrelenting winter storms. He leaned over and touched his mobile which lay on the bedside pedestal. The screen lit up - 5.22 am. He sighed. No good trying to get back to sleep now. He threw back the covers and snapped on the bedside lamp. What he needed was an espresso.

Even though the heating was on in the house, the kitchen felt cold as he entered. He flipped the light switch and the room was bathed in soft light. An unfamiliar shape caught his eye as he reached for the tin of ground coffee. It was the little Christmas tree Aunty Joan had brought him during the week. She thought it would cheer him up…get him in the Christmas spirit. It was a small sapling from her garden which she'd put in a pot and which now stood on the kitchen counter next to the back door. There was a silver star perched on the top and little red and gold balls dangling everywhere. It even had a decoration shaped like a little dog with a Christmas hat on. His lip curled. Aunty Joan's sense of humour was sometimes hard to understand. He grunted as he measured out the coffee and pressed it into the portafilter.

The tree reminded him that Aunty Joan was visiting friends in St Ives this year so they wouldn't be having their usual Christmas lunch together. The invitation had been extended to him as well but he'd declined. The last thing he needed was to be with a group of Aunty Joan's friends who would probably chatter incessantly and imbibe too much wine. The thought made him shudder. No - he'd rather be on his own. He could spend the day working on his latest clock.

He pressed the button on the coffee machine and it hummed softly. Christmas in Portwenn – a tedious affair indeed. Christmas was always a taxing time for him. When he'd been in London he'd found the frenzy surrounding the holiday baffling and silly. Apart from the widespread moronic behaviour exhibited at Christmastime, fuelled no doubt by copious amounts of alcohol which often resulted in injury or worse, people seemed to also change personality over the festive season. They became emotional and exhibited an alarming inclination to hug and inflict gifts of chocolate and soppy cards on one another. His lip curled. The tradition was no different in Portwenn except it somehow seemed more intrusive. His patients were much closer to him and hell-bent on giving the Doc 'a little something' for the Big Days. But why chocolate or biscuits and even whisky for God's sake? The eats were full of sugar and fat and excess calories and the latter made him fall asleep and besides, they knew he didn't eat any of it and didn't usually drink alcohol. But his patients seemed to be decidedly hard of hearing when he told them things like that. Idiots the lot of them!

He sipped his espresso as he sat at the kitchen table. There were a few envelopes in a pile to one side. Pauline must have put them there before she'd left the evening before. He idly sifted through them – mostly personal bills and junk mail. He was just about to toss the whole lot aside when he saw a cream-coloured envelope with cursive writing on it. He held it up. _Dr. Martin Ellingham, Portwenn Surgery._ He opened it and took out the single sheet of paper.

 _Dear Martin_

 _I've been thinking about you a lot and just wanted to wish you a very Happy Christmas. London is so busy at this time of year and I miss the quieter festive season in Portwenn. And I miss you._

Martin's heart started pounding.

 _Since we parted I've had a lot of time to think – about us and about what we could have done to make things work between us. I realise now that we didn't really know one another - not the way two people who are about to get married should anyway. And I also realise that, if we'd had the time to really be together, to talk and do ordinary things like go for walks or perhaps cook meals together without the pressure of planning a wedding, we might have made a go of it. I for one am sorry I gave up so easily._

 _By the time you read this, I will probably already be in Portwenn staying at White Rose Cottage for the holidays. I will understand completely if you ignore this letter but if you would like to talk, you know where I'll be._

 _Louisa_

Martin's hand shook as he held the letter. She was here - in Portwenn. If he left the surgery now he would be with her in two minutes – she was that close. He felt panic clutching at his chest. His heart pounded and his breathing felt as if he had run up and down Roscarrock Hill twice. She was here. Oh God. It was something he'd dreamed would happen and now that it had he was paralysed with fear. Fear that he would mess it up again. That the minute he opened his mouth he would destroy everything the letter seemed to offer: the possibility of reconciliation.

He read it again. He too had regretted the decision to abort the wedding. During the many nights that followed he'd lain awake thinking about Louisa and what might have been and he'd realised it had been a hasty and drastic thing to do. Their courtship had been fraught with setbacks, mostly because they didn't communicate properly and because the local busybodies had constantly been negative around them - passing snide comments, constantly implying how lucky he was that Louisa had deigned to accept the proposal of such a grumpy, miserable bugger. He'd heard people joking with Louisa about him. It slowly ate at both of them and he'd begun to doubt his ability to make her happy. What did she see in him?

Usually he wouldn't have given a tinker's damn about what the villagers thought and even less about what they said. They were a bunch of juvenile idiots, the lot of them. But he knew Louisa cared about what they said. She knew them. She'd grown up with them and, he had to admit, some of the things they said about him were true. He didn't have much of a sense of humour - well none really. Except for the incident with the surfer's Volkswagen drifting off into the harbour (because he was an idiot) he couldn't remember when last he'd found anything remotely amusing in the village of the damned. He was antisocial at the best of times and forthright - they called it being rude. And he had no bedside manner, a trait they seemed to value over being a good doctor. But he did love Louisa. He wanted her to be happy and she wasn't going to be happy if she married him. If only they'd talked about things before the wedding day. If they'd done that, could it have worked?

He folded the sheet and slipped it back in the envelope and put it in the pocket of his dressing gown. Would he go and see her? He thought of her just down the road, lying in her bed in White Rose Cottage. The bed where they'd…he shook his head and got up slowly from the table to rinse his cup. He couldn't let thoughts like that fill his mind right now. It was time to shower and get dressed. It was Christmas Eve but he would still hold surgery until lunchtime and then he would be free for the rest of the Christmas holiday weekend. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Pull yourself together Ellingham.

Upstairs he stripped and got into the shower. He stood with his head tilted back and savoured the feeling of the warm water flowing over his body and he thought of Louisa - as he did every day. Of her beautiful eyes and soft lips. The way her face lit up when she smiled and the way she said his name when she wanted to make a point. He remembered how she'd felt in his arms and he knew that he had to go to her - even if it was just to see her one last time.

Surgery seemed to drag. Every patient he saw was there either because they were lonely and wanted to talk, or they couldn't wait to let him know that Louisa was back in the village. The place was like a bloody bush telegraph. Thank goodness he already knew or he would have made an idiot of himself in front of them.

He ushered the last of the patients out then sat at his desk to write up his notes. When he'd finished he picked up the pile of folders and went to file them in the reception area but as he got to the door of his consulting room Mrs Tishell suddenly appeared. His hand shot up to his chest in startled shock and he sucked in his breath.

"Good afternoon Doctor. I didn't mean to startle you...I'm _so_ glad I caught you in." Mrs Tishell had a way of speaking that embodied the word 'simper'.

He stared suspiciously down at her and at the wrapped gift in her hands.

"Yes Mrs Tishell, what can I do for you?" he asked curtly. He couldn't get past her because she blocked the doorway so he backed into the consulting room, putting a bit of distance between them.

"It being the festive season and all, I thought I would bring you a little something to wish you a _very_ happy Christmas," she took a step forward, "and to express my appreciation for your _dedicated_ service to our community. We medical professionals know how much _sacrifice_ it takes, don't we…Doc-tor?" She came closer, batting her eyelashes at him. Martin frantically looked for a way to avoid what he knew was coming. He moved to stand next to his desk as she slowly stepped forward.

"It's just a little something Doc-tor. Something you can cuddle up to on a cold winter night." Her tone was suggestive and Martin cringed. The woman was mad.

"Thank you Mrs Tishell…now I must crack on so if you would just leave it over there," he pointed at the countertop next to the door. But she was already walking towards him. Oh God.

She came to a stop right in front of him. "There's no mistletoe Doctor, but it doesn't mean we can't wish each other properly does it now?" She leaned in and her mouth puckered into a kiss as she lifted up her face and closed her eyes. Martin sidestepped nimbly and rushed for the door. "Yes….good day Mrs Tishell." He flew up the stairs and shut the door to his bedroom, leaning against it to listen for the front door and breathed a sigh of relief when he eventually heard it closing.

Martin waited a moment then opened the door and listened. All was quiet and he slowly made his way down the stairs, cautiously looking around to make sure Mrs Tishell wasn't waiting to ambush him. It was 1.15 pm – a little past his time for lunch. The thought of food however didn't appeal to him at all - his stomach was in knots.

By 2 pm the rain had eased and after finishing off a report he tidied his desk and went upstairs to brush his teeth. When he was satisfied that his appearance was still immaculate he went back down, took a deep breath and stepped outside. He set off down the hill towards White Rose Cottage and sooner than he was prepared for he stood in front of the door. His courage evaporated and he felt like running away just as he'd done the day after the disastrous concert. He took a step backward but just then the door opened and there she was – his beautiful Louisa. Her hair cascaded down to her shoulders and she was dressed in a warm blue jersey and black jeans. She took his breath away.

"Hello Martin." Her cheeks were slightly flushed as she smiled tentatively up at him.

Martin's tongue felt as if it was stuck to his teeth but he managed to say, "Hello."

She stood back. "Come in."

He ducked his head under the low door frame and squeezed past her. Her proximity set his heart racing and he quickly moved away then turned to look at her as she closed the door. What he wanted to do was go over and take her in his arms and just hold her but he was rooted to the spot. They faced each other - their eyes locked. She looked so beautiful and he swallowed hard, unable to get a single word out.

Finally she said, "How are you Martin?"

"I'm umm…I'm fine...thank you…"

"Work?"

"Work is fine…busy. Mmm." Martin's hands were clenched at his side. "And...uh...how are you?"

"Glad to be home."

He searched her face. Home? Was Portwenn still home?

She smiled and walked past him into the little kitchen. "Tea…or coffee?"

"Umm…tea. Please."

She put the kettle on to boil.

He watched her every move. He couldn't get enough of just looking at her. She was actually here - in Portwenn – in front of him. It had been six months since they'd last seen each other. Six long, lonely months. His eyes followed her as she got cups down from the cupboard.

It had started raining again. He could hear it beating against the windows of the patio doors. "London not to your liking?"

"Not really – no. It's alright for the first month or so...exciting, but after that it's very impersonal." She poured tea into both cups and handed him one. "Milk…no sugar...yes?"

"Yes…thank you." She'd remembered.

"You can be lonelier in crowded London than when you're on your own. Funny that." She walked past him and indicated that they should sit in the little sitting room in front of the patio windows. The rain obscured the view over the deck and the harbour beyond. Martin sat down in one of the easy chairs and Louisa settled on the little sofa opposite.

"So you got my letter then?"

"Yes…" He coughed nervously and took a sip of his tea. It was still too hot and almost burned his mouth.

She looked at him over the rim of her cup. "I meant what I said."

Which part of it, he thought and, as if she'd read his mind she said, "All of it."

They stared at each other across the small space. Her eyes were questioning. His were anxious. Louisa recognised the painful shyness in him. In the months she'd been away she'd thought a lot about that – what it was that made him unable to express himself. The day he'd asked her to marry him it had come as such a shock to hear him open up and say that he couldn't bear to be without her. It was as if his feelings had burst out from behind his defences like a dam wall breaking and the vulnerable Martin had shown himself for the first time. Her heart had just melted with love for him.

What followed was beautiful. The first time they made love she'd discovered a side of him that she'd never imagined. He'd given himself to her - every last bit of himself. There'd been no shyness – instead there was an unreserved tenderness and passion. He'd shown her that he had the capacity to love and to express that love physically. It had shone in his eyes and in the way he took his time exploring her body, finding the places that made her moan with pleasure - driving her insane with desire for him. It was also in the way he held her to his body when at last they lay quietly in each other's arms. What he couldn't say in words, he said in so many other ways.

For a while it had been exciting, the anticipation of seeing him, being with him, making love - well, when they weren't interrupted that is - but then it hadn't been enough for her. She had driven him to speak, driven him to express himself, driven him to share his feelings. She'd wanted to go out and be seen with him in public - as a couple. She'd wanted him to talk all the time - and he'd buckled under the pressure. The more frustrated she became at his silence or monosyllabic answers, the more he'd withdrawn.

In the months she'd been away, she'd recognized that she'd played a big part in them splitting up. She'd always known he was different. It was one of the things that attracted her to him in the first place. She knew that he was socially awkward and a man of few words and yet after he'd asked her to marry him, she'd wanted him to become someone else. She looked at him now as he sat opposite her, fiddling nervously with his tea cup. He looked so distinguished in his immaculate dark blue suit and red tie. She looked at his mouth and wanted so much to feel his lips on hers and for him to hold her in his arms again.

He opened his mouth then closed it again. He looked anxious. What was he frightened of? She remembered right in the beginning him saying to her, "… _when I say something, it just makes things worse…_ " and she'd castigated him for copping out – for being selfish. But while she was away and had time to think about it, she realised that Martin really was afraid of speaking when it came to his emotions. This time, if he gave her the chance, she wouldn't push him.

"I meant everything I said…that I miss you." She brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

She watched as Martin battled to find words. When he did speak his voice was soft and velvety. "I've missed you too." His eyes still held hers. "Every day."

Louisa put her cup down and went to him. She knelt down in front of him and took his cup and put it on the table and taking his hands in hers she said, "Martin…I don't expect you to suddenly go back to the way it was between us…but I want you to know that I was wrong about you. I was wrong to want to change you. I know that you loved me – you made me feel loved every day. But my need to hear you say it all the time consumed me – made me try and push you into becoming someone you're not…and I'm sorry for that." She put her hand up and gently stroked his cheek.

Martin swallowed hard. What he wanted to say was that he'd never stopped loving her - that he missed her and wanted her to stay. That he was lost without her. But as much as he felt all of these things to the depths of his miserable heart, he couldn't open his mouth and say them. Why not? If it would make her stay and love him – why could he not say it?

"Louisa…I…umm…thank you for the letter." You idiot. Thank you for the letter? Really?

She waited for him to continue and saw the battle waging behind his eyes and in the way his hands gripped hers. "Don't say anything now," she said softly. She squeezed his hands then leaned forward and gently put her lips to his. At first he did nothing, thinking it was going to be a friendly peck but her mouth continued to move softly over his and his heart started pounding. His mouth tentatively sought hers, gently tasting her sweetness and his heart almost stopped as her lips parted under his. Their kiss deepened and every pore in his body seemed to hum with barely controlled passion. His breath caught as she slid her arms around his neck and nudged his legs apart so that she could kneel between them. His hand came up to cup her jaw and she moaned softly against his mouth. But eventually they reluctantly pulled apart - both slightly breathless - both rendered speechless by the depth of their feelings.

A silence enveloped them. A silence filled with fragile tenderness and so many unanswered questions. Eventually Louisa said, "I've missed you so much." She lay her head against his shoulder and he put his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in her neck, savouring the scent of her skin and the feeling of her as she lay against his chest.

After a while they pulled apart. Louisa leaned back so she could look at him. "Maybe it's best if we just umm…"

"Yes…" he coughed softly.

She got up and sat on the sofa again. Martin stared at her as if she was about to evaporate into thin air. She smiled at him over the rim of her cup. "Are you going to Aunty Joan tomorrow for Christmas lunch?"

"No…she's gone to friends in St Ives."

"Oh…so you'll be on your own?"

"Yes…"

"Would you like to have lunch with me? We could cook something together. You like cooking." Before he could reply she said, "I've bought a Cornish hen and some lean gammon. A turkey is too much and I never get it quite right."

His heart skipped a beat. If he said yes he could be with her for a few hours. "Lunch would be fine…it will be good...thank you."

He finished his tea and put his cup down on the little table. His eyes were on Louisa as she looked out of the patio doors. She seemed lost in thought, and then she turned to him. "Do you remember when we stood out there on the deck and I told you that the vicar had had a cancellation and we could marry in three weeks' time?"

"Yes…"

"Were you as scared as I was?"

His eyes widened. He remembered that day well. The weather had been beautiful and she'd looked so beautiful. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of her lips. "Yes…but I…"

Louisa waited for him to speak. "But?"

"But I also wanted you….I mean…wanted to be with you." He blushed.

Louisa smiled. "And you showed me didn't you?"

He remembered that sweet kiss and how she'd responded and he'd wanted so much to take her upstairs and make love to her. And then his blasted phone had rung. He'd been so very tempted to just ignore it.

He lowered his gaze lest she should see the need in his eyes and, as if on cue, his mobile rang. Both of them drooped visibly in frustration.

He looked at her and said the same words he'd said that day too, "I'm sorry," as he took his phone from his inside pocket and stood up. His tone was clipped when he answered. "Ellingham." He paused. "Is he breathing?" Another pause. 'Where are you? Right…keep him immobile and warm. I will be there in five minutes."

He stood up. "I'm sorry Louisa…"

"I understand Martin." She came to stand in front of him; so close he could see a pulse throbbing in her neck. Unable to help himself he bent forward and his mouth found hers. She moaned softly and leaned in and his arms went around her. Their kiss deepened becoming hungry and sensual as he moulded her to his body. Her hands were in his hair and stroking his face and he felt so much love for her. But eventually he pulled away. "I have to go…" His voice was husky.

"I know," she said softly. She stood back and he ducked his head under the door frame and stepped out into the rain.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **A Merry Christmas to all my fellow DM fans and may the year ahead be inspiring and filled with exciting things.**


	2. Chapter 2

Louisa shut the door and leaned against it. The cottage suddenly felt empty without Martin there. She put her hands to her cheeks where a warm flush still lingered. She could almost still feel his arms around her. After all this time Martin could still make her melt with longing. Nothing had changed on that score.

In the six months she'd been away she'd tried to analyse what had made her so sure that Martin couldn't make her happy. She'd gone around in circles, confused and indecisive about what she felt. How could she long for a man so much and not want to be with him? Why did she let frustration and resentment creep into every internal dialogue she had with herself about him. _I love him but if only he would...why must he always?...why couldn't he just?...oh that's just typical Martin._ After a while those thoughts were replaced with a deep loneliness and a longing just to see him, to touch him again. Her thoughts were filled with images of him - his impeccable appearance, his straight, imposing bearing, the way he took charge, the way he spoke and the sound of his voice, the way he looked at her, his boyish shyness when he was alone with her, his surprising gentleness.

But as always the negative side always mingled in with her thoughts. How he frustrated her with his ability to shock people with his tactless and blunt manner. How he appeared to be so thoughtless. His inability to just talk - about everyday things. How he took everything literally, never looking for any nuance in anything she said, never reading between the lines. Why he hardly ever initiated any intimacy between them. And why it was so important to her that he did. But as the months went by she found that the things that upset her about him seemed so trivial compared to the longing to be near him.

That night as she lay in bed listening to the wind howling and hurling rain against the windows with unrelenting force she wished with all her heart that Martin was lying next to her, holding her in his arms. She hugged her pillow instead and eventually drifted off into a dream-filled sleep.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The next day Martin was at White Rose Cottage in good time to help prepare the lunch. When he knocked Louisa opened the door and stood back as he ducked his head under the door frame. Before he could straighten she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Merry Christmas."

He froze, bent almost double in the doorway then Louisa stepped aside and allowed him to squeeze past her.

He coughed. "Yes...mmm...Merry Christmas."

They eyed each other as Louisa closed the door.

"So Martin … are you on call today?"

"Uhh…no..."

"Good. Give me your phone."

"What?"

"Your mobile – give." She held out her hand.

He hesitated.

"Martin…you are off duty. You are entitled to have time to yourself without the phone ringing all the time." She waggled her fingers at him. "So come on...give it to me. Please."

He reluctantly took it from his pocket and handed it over. Louisa immediately switched it off and put it on the hallway table. He thought he would feel agitated but all he felt was relief. She smiled at him and his cheeks nudged up, becoming a little more defined which she knew meant that he was smiling.

In the kitchen, they began preparing the food. Martin was a neat and organised cook. He laid everything he needed out as if he was in an operating theatre while Louisa's end of the counter looked as if a troop of Year One children from the school had been there. But they muddled along, amiably discussing which herbs and spices to use and the cooking times for the meats. Martin prepared the vegetables while she set the little table. By the time everything was under control and in the oven it had just gone 11.30 am. Outside it had started raining hard and the wind had come up again.

Louisa took some glasses down and reached for a bottle of red wine. She held it up and raised her eyebrows at him. "Wine?

"Ahh...no...thank you...it has a debil..."

"It's Christmas Martin. And a little good cheer on a cold day would be nice, don't you think?" She looked in the cupboard. "I have whisky." She took it out and showed him. It was a good single malt.

"Yes...perhaps just a small one."

She splashed a decent amount into the glass and handed it to him. "You're off duty Martin. You don't have to attend any patients. And you need to relax." She grinned. "I promise I won't get you drunk again."

He grunted and took the glass from her.

The sitting room was warm with the central heating on and a little Christmas tree in the corner twinkled with lights making it look festive. Louisa sat down and patted the cushion next to her and Martin eased himself in beside her, dwarfing the small sofa with his big frame. He took a little sip of the whisky and felt it burn its way down his throat and warm his belly. Beside him Louisa sat with her legs curled up under her - she was so soft and feminine and so close.

She looked up and caught him staring at her. "This is nice and cosy."

"Yes…" His gaze was thoughtful and unwavering. "Louisa…why did you leave without saying goodbye?"

Louisa twirled the stem of her wine glass and took a sip before she answered. "If I had come to say goodbye, I wouldn't have been able to leave."

"You didn't have to leave."

She smiled gently. "I had to Martin. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing you and not being with you - and at the time I thought our differences were too great to overcome. I had to put distance between us."

He sat in silence for a while, looking out at the rain. "I didn't know where you'd gone until Aunty Joan told me you were in London. She didn't say where though. And she wouldn't give me your number. Said she didn't have it."

"That's right - she didn't. I call her from time to time from my mobile." She took another sip of wine. "I couldn't talk to you Martin. If I'd heard your voice I would have fallen to pieces."

He was silent for a moment then he put his glass down. "I fell to pieces." He looked at her with that frank and open gaze of his. "Without you Portwenn is unbearable." He fiddled with the ring on his right hand. "I didn't think I would ever see you again…so I asked Chris Parsons to find me a job in London."

Louisa's eyes went wide. "London?"

He nodded. "I went up for an interview at Imperial College two weeks ago – head of Vascular. Still waiting to hear."

"Oh." She frowned slightly. "What about your blood...thing?"

"Umm…I've been undergoing therapy…desensitisation."

"Is it working?"

"I think so…"

Louisa tilted her head to one side. "You don't seem too sure."

He looked away. How could he tell her that if he couldn't return to surgery he would rather sweep streets in London than stay in Portwenn without her there? Every day he walked down the hill he would still look for her, he would still hope that she would somehow appear and smile at him with that beautiful smile. But as the weeks then months passed he knew she wasn't going to be there. She was gone and his reason for staying in Portwenn had gone with her. He picked up his glass and took a big gulp of whisky. It made him shudder with its fieriness but he felt it relax him. "Are you just here for Christmas?"

"I'll be here until just after New Year. Then I have to get back to work – I teach at a primary school near to where I stay in London."

"How are you finding it?"

"A challenge" She laughed. "City children versus village teacher. I sometimes come off second best. But I'm learning."

"Mmm." Martin got up and went to check on the meat. It was coming along nicely and delicious aromas came wafting through as he closed the oven door. "Another forty minutes or so," he said as he sat down beside her again.

Louisa watched him as he settled back into the sofa and stretched his long legs out in front of him. The whisky seemed to be working. "Why don't you take off your jacket? It's warm enough in here."

"Umm…I'm ok for now. Thank you."

She smiled. "If I'd known we were going to spend Christmas day together I would have had a present for you."

Just being with her was present enough for him. "Yes…I also didn't expect…"

"At least we get to share the day together."

"Mmm..." Martin looked sideways at her. She was twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "So...is there anyone...in London?" His voice was casual as if he was asking about the weather.

She looked puzzled. "Anyone?"

"Someone you're...seeing?" There had to be. Martin couldn't believe that she could spend six months in London without someone trying to sweep her off her feet.

She smiled gently at him, recognising the hint of jealousy in his tone. "No...no-one special."

"Oh...so there is someone? Just not someone...special." His voice petered out.

"No - there's no-one."

He gave a little upward nod of his head. "I see."

She nudged him with her elbow. "And what exactly does that mean?"

He frowned, clearly not understanding what she was asking.

" _I see_ \- what does that mean?"

"It's just...I can't believe there wouldn't be…umm," He coughed nervously then looked directly at her. "Have you seen Danny?" He knew Danny was based in London.

Louisa looked shocked. "No I have _not_." She pursed her lips. "Martin, I thought we'd been through that. Danny is not part of my life. Whatever we had is over...and has been for a long time now."

Martin's lip curled slightly. "Well _he_ might not realise...I mean...does he know it's over?"

She tilted her head to the side. "It sounds like you're a little jealous."

"I am not." He squirmed in his seat. "I am merely pointing out that…"

"I'd rather like it if you were jealous."

Martin opened his mouth then thought better of saying anything.

She smiled mischievously at him. "It would make me feel special."

He stared at her. She _was_ special and he wanted to say that but the words died on his tongue.

Louisa sipped her wine. "And what about you? Anyone special?"

Martin's head whipped up. Was she poking fun at him? He must have looked appalled because Louisa laughed softly and put her hand on his arm.

"Well there might be someone, you know...maybe another Carrie Lewis lurking around."

Martin scowled deeply. "I don't know why you thought I...why she…"

"I thought it because she _was_ coming on to you...and not very subtly either I might add."

Martin dipped his head and coughed. "Yes...well...killing her dog put an end to that...not that it was intentional..."

Louisa put her glass down and uncurled her legs. "I'd better check on the veggies."

She stood up and Martin got up and followed her. "And I'll check the meat."

They both reached for the oven glove on the kitchen counter at the same time and their fingers touched. Neither pulled away. Louisa felt as if a jolt of electricity had gone through her arm. She looked up. His eyes were intense and seemed to look right into her mind. She saw him swallow and she patted his hand, "You go first…"

Louisa watched him as he bent over the oven to checked the meat. She loved how he looked - every bit of him from his soft grey hair to his long legs. Her attraction to him hadn't diminished one little bit. In fact her heart was racing as she watched him straighten up and hand her the glove.

She checked the roasting pan with the vegetables. "I think we're almost ready to eat, don't you?"

"Yes…"

Louisa lit the candles on the table, while Martin carved the meat and they each dished their food from the serving bowls. Louisa had put some soft music on. Tony Bennett duets - just right for the cold, wet and windy Christmas day.

They ate, talking only a little. Every time she looked up he was looking at her. She smiled into his eyes.

"I think we did a great job on our meal Martin."

"Yes…" He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "Very satisfactory."

Once they'd tidied up and washed the dishes, they went back into the sitting room and Louisa took Martin's hand and led him to the sofa. She pulled him down to sit next to her and kept his hand in hers. She sighed as she cuddled up to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

Martin felt his heart thudding. He was aware of her with every pore in his body. He lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders and rested his cheek against her hair. They sat like that for a long time, drawing comfort from one another. The rain beating against the windows made them feel as if they were alone in the universe. Louisa ran her hand across his jacket and undid the buttons so she could slide her hand across his belly. "Mmm…you feel good," she murmured. Martin turned slightly and put his fingers under her chin, lifting her face so he could look at her. "So do you…" He slowly lowered his head until their lips met in the lightest and gentlest of kisses.

"Can we start again Martin?" she asked when at last they pulled apart.

He looked at her with that open gaze. She could tell that he was afraid to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing.

"Can we go back to the moment just after you asked me to marry you and I said yes? And can we put aside what happened on our wedding day? Just for now?"

Martin wanted that more than anything. To have her with him – no longer angry or confusing him with things he didn't understand. "How do you intend to do that?"

She smiled mischievously at him. "Well…for a start…let's pretend you've just asked me to marry you and I've just said yes…" She stared at him expectantly. "And now you take me in your arms…" She got up and pulled him to his feet and he slipped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck the way he had done that day.

She stroked his hair. "And now I am going to say what I said next." She pulled back so she could look at him. "I love you Martin. I love you so much."

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "And I said…I love you too Louisa," he whispered.

"You did…"

"And then I did this…" He lowered his mouth to hers in a deep and sensual kiss and she responded, winding her arms around his neck as he moulded her body to his.

"Oh Martin." She pulled back and stroked his face gently. "I've missed your touch so very much."

"You didn't say that…" A little smile tugged at his mouth.

"You made a joke Martin."

"Yes…"

"And no, I didn't say that…but I _have_ missed your touch." She smiled at him. "Can you remember what happened next?"

"I will never forget what happened next…" he said quietly.

She looked at him and knew the next part of their little game depended on what she did next, for it was she who'd eventually taken his hand that day and led him upstairs to her bedroom.

He waited for her to say something.

"In my letter I said I think our relationship failed because we didn't really know each other - not as partners or lovers should. If I take your hand now and lead you upstairs like I did that day, we will make love and I want that so, so much. But what about afterwards Martin? Will we be able to go back and get to know one another the way couples should? Really get to know the everyday things about each other?" She touched his lips with her fingertips.

Martin was terrified. He was a difficult man. What if she didn't like what she found? Would he survive another break up? He didn't think so. "Umm…I'm no good at games Louisa."

"This wouldn't be a game. It would be real…if you said yes."

"But you're in London…and I'm here."

"For now, yes…" She stroked his hair. "I want so much for this to work…for us to work. Just so we would know that we gave it a proper chance."

Martin's gaze was soft as he stared down at her. He brought his hands up to cup her face. "I want that too. More than anything."

Louisa slid her hands under his jacket and around his waist. She sighed with pleasure as his mouth claimed hers. His lips moved over hers, teasing hers, tasting her sweetness. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck so she could pull his head down harder and their kiss deepened.

Martin trailed his mouth along her jaw and down her neck and her breath caught in her throat at the pleasure of it. She wanted him so badly. His hand moved from her face downwards until it came to rest so gently on her breast and Louisa leaned into him. Both were breathing harder now, both knowing that they did not want to stop until they joined as one.

"Martin," she whispered against his mouth.

"Mmm…?" he continued nipping at her lower lip and caressing her until she felt as if she was on fire.

She sighed, "Martin...let's…"

A loud banging exploded into their consciousness, startling them, shattering the moment and they pulled apart, not quite comprehending what had just happened.

Bang Bang Bang

" _Doc!_ "

Bang Bang Bang Bang.

" _Doc!_...there's been an accident."

"Oh God," Louisa groaned.

Martin looked down at her, frustration written all over his face. His arms dropped to his sides and he stepped away as she went to open the front door. Penhale stood there in his rain gear. "Louisa...Doc...sorry for intruding...well it's not really intruding...just an unexpected visit you might say. What I mean Doc is I'm sorry that I disturbed your Christmas...with Louisa…" He had a little smirk on his face.

"What do you want Penhale?" Martin's tone was curt. It was exactly the kind of tone that Louisa normally found so difficult to accept but right now she was totally in accord.

"It's Frank Jennings Doc - he's had an accident. Fell off the breakwater onto the rocks. The lifeboat crew have managed to get to him and they're bringing him in as we spea- _k._ The tide is still low but the waves are really big…"

Louisa could see Martin's mind assessing all the possible injuries.

"Have you called an ambulance?"

"Yes Doc...but the weather is slowing things down...they're about an hour out - maybe more. You were the next port of call so to speak." He grinned. "No pun intended."

Martin's lip curled. The idiot. "You will have to stop at the surgery so I can get my bag."

"Right you are Doc…" His face split into a huge smile as he hitched up his belt. "The Dynamic Duo in action again hey Doc?"

"Oh God…" Martin turned to Louisa. His expression said everything.

"It's alright Martin," she said softly. "We can talk later."

He opened his mouth then closed it again.

Louisa put her hand on his arm. "Be careful out there."

Martin grunted then ducked through the doorway and got into Penhale's police van. He was still looking at her as the van pulled away and she stayed and watched as the tail lights disappeared down the hill.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thank you to all who have left reviews and sent me PMs - every single one is very much appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Martin was in the police van Penhale gunned the motor and pulled away so fast that Martin had to hang onto the grab handle above the door. They raced down the hill, siren blaring and blue lights flashing.

"Is that really necessary?"

"What is?"

"The siren. There's no traffic..."

"Official police business Doc. Got to go by the boo- _k_." Penhale slowed slightly near the Platt then floored it up Roscarrock Hill. "Besides...I hardly ever get to use the siren."

Martin rolled his eyes. At the surgery he quickly made sure he had everything in his bag then grabbed the defibrillator and got into the van again.

As they pulled away Penhale reached for the siren switch and Martin said, "For God's sake, don't. You'll have every nosy busybody in Portwenn wondering what's going on and they're just going to get in the way."

Penhale cocked a finger in Martin's direction. "Good point Doc."

Down at the slipway Martin jumped out the minute the van screeched to a stop and reached in for his bags. The afternoon light was already fading and the sky looked ominous. In the harbour the fishing boats were just beginning to float upright again as the tide came in. Beyond the breakwater the waves were crashing angrily against the cliffs, sending white spray high into the air.

Martin set off at his usual rapid pace with Penhale scrambling to keep up. He entered the lifeboat house and heard the strident sound of the radio as Gerry, the station captain, communicated with the crew on the rescue boat.

He nodded at Martin then spoke into the handset. "Roger that Steve. ETA five minutes. We have the Doc standing by."

Gerry turned to Martin as he put the microphone back in its cradle. "Alright Doc? The tide is in far enough for them to bring the boat quite close to the slipway but we're still going to get wet bringing poor ol' Frank up here."

"What is the situation." Martin's eyes bored into his.

Before Gerry could speak Penhale stepped forward, hitching his belt. "Frank Jennings - male... _obviously._ " He gave a bumptious grin. "Caucasian. Forty two years old. Single...well not really single...separated actually...sad that, after fifteen years..."

"Shut up Penhale." Martin looked at Gerry and raised his eyebrow.

Gerry nodded towards the harbour entrance. "He's conscious but in pain and can't stand - something wrong with his one leg. There's a wound to the head...seems disorientated. Apparently he went down to the breakwater when the tide was low and a wave washed him off the ladder and onto the rocks. It's a bit rough out there with this swell pushing in. Fortunately someone saw him or he would be a goner."

Penhale nodded knowingly. "Yes and then his body would have been washed up somewhere and I'd have to get Forensics down here to identify the body." He looked quite pleased at the prospect.

Martin sighed and turned to look around the boathouse. "Is there a space I can use to examine Mr Jackson when he's brought in?"

Gerry pointed to a long table in the corner. "It's Jennings."

"What is?"

"The victim...patient...his name is Frank Jennings - not Jackson."

Martin's expression didn't alter. "Mmm…"

He put his bags down next to the table. It was fairly clean and would do very well as an examination table.

He heard Penhale speaking to Gerry. "So it's Steve Baker captaining the boat is it?"

"Yeah God help us...we'll never hear the end of the great Steve Baker all over again and he'll rehash the whole Moon Ray rescue saga...as he always does - at _every_ bloody opportunity."

Martin saw the framed newspaper cuttings on the wall above the ad hoc exam table. There was one of a man in a life jacket smiling at the camera. He looked overweight. You would think that a man who had to participate in physically stressful situations would keep himself in better shape. Idiot.

"They're coming in." Gerry was standing in the open doorway and Martin went to stand beside him as they watched the lifeboat edging closer until it gently ran aground. "They'll begin the transfer…" but Martin was already jogging down the beach before Gerry could finish the sentence.

When he got to the boat the men were just jumping off onto the waterlogged sand. "Out of the way." Martin went straight to the side of the boat. "Stand aside…"

He was relieved to see that the crew had secured the patient to a backboard and had immobilised his neck in a brace. Good! Obviously well trained. He quickly checked vital signs. "Can you hear me Mr Johnson?"

Steve Baker looked puzzled. "It's Jennings...Frank Jennings."

"Can you hear me Mr Jennings?"

Frank nodded then groaned. Martin put his hand out. "Don't do that...can you speak?"

"Yes." Frank's voice was croaky.

"Where does it hurt?"

"My head...and leg..."

There was blood seeping from a wound on the man's head and it was already pooling at the back of his neck. Martin felt his stomach contract and he swallowed to try and rid his mouth of the sudden rush of saliva.

"Right...well get him into the boathouse." He cleared his throat and waved his hand in the general direction. The crew carefully lifted Frank from the boat as the rain began to fall. In seconds it was coming down hard.

"Careful…"

The crew glared at Martin and muttered under their breath which went completely unnoticed by him as he strode off up the sloping beach to the lifeboat station.

With his patient still strapped onto the backboard and lying on the long table in the boathouse, Martin gave him a thorough examination. His pupils showed definite signs of concussion. Martin prepared a drip and inserted the needle into the back of his hand. "Penhale...hold this." He gave him the drip bag. "No no no...it's no good like that...up...hold it up!"

"Right you are Doc." Penhale stood like the Statue of Liberty with the bag suspended above his head.

Next Martin examined Frank's limbs and the man cried out when he was touched on his lower left leg. So a possible fracture of the left tibia as well.

"Where else does it hurt Mr errr…?"

" _Jennings_." said five men in unison.

Martin cleared his throat. "Yesss...errr...where else does it hurt Mr Jennings?"

There was no response. Martin looked at his face. The patient's eyes were closed and he knew he'd lost consciousness. Not good. It was a great pity that they could not get the air ambulance but in this weather, it had been grounded. Martin worked to staunch the bleeding from the head wound. He didn't want to press too hard because of the possibility of a fracture. His stomach heaved but he managed to control himself.

"Where's that ambulance? Has anyone followed up?"

No one answered. "Well? Can _someone_ follow up? Come on...move it!" he barked and it wasn't long before Gerry said, "They're about five minutes away Doc."

A short while later the paramedics were transferring the patient into the ambulance as Martin briefed them. The rain was now coming down in sheets and lightning lit up the dark sky. It wouldn't be long before the village would have to batten down for a severe winter storm if Martin read the signs correctly. He was drenched by the time he got back into Penhale's police van.

"Where shall I drop you off Doc?"

"At the surgery of course."

"Oh…I thought..."

"What?"

"Well I thought you might want to go back to Louisa's...seeing that you were…"

"The surgery Penhale. In case you haven't noticed I am wet through."

"Well clothes wouldn't matter if you…"

Martin's head whipped round. "Good God man...just take me to the surgery!"

When Martin finally closed the kitchen door he was shivering and his shoes left wet marks on the floor as he went to put his bags in the consulting room. Then he went upstairs where he slowly began to strip. He hung his suit beside the radiator to dry then headed for the bathroom where he turned on the shower and stripped off the rest of his wet clothes. The warm water running over his body felt wonderful as it eased the cold from his limbs. He heard thunder rumbling and rain lashing on the roof. It sounded wild out there. He thought of where he might have been right now if Penhale hadn't bashed on Louisa's door and dragged him off to the lifeboat station.

He wondered if he should go back to her house. It had only just gone six o'clock but the weather had settled in for a good blow and he would be drenched again by the time he got there. And there was no privacy it seemed. The entire village seemed to know where he was having Christmas lunch. How on God's earth did they know? He'd seen no-one on his way there. But it was probably one of the nosy neighbours watching from behind their net curtains. It never failed to amaze him how the word spread and how everyone seemed to know what everyone else was doing. Typical!

A bright flash of lightning lit up the room followed by a massive crash of thunder. The storm was close now. He hoped everyone would stay indoors and not expose themselves to the elements and potential danger. But then this was Portwenn and like Frank What's-His-Name, people regularly did incredibly stupid...

"Martin?"

Martin froze. Someone was in the house.

He pulled the shower curtain aside and peered out just as Louisa appeared in the doorway.

"Louisa!" He hurriedly made sure the shower curtain covered his lower body. "What are you doing here?" His eyes travelled over her. "You're soaking."

"Yes…" She reached for a towel. "May I?"

"Of course…"

"You left your mobile and I thought you might need it. I saw the ambulance leaving the village so I assumed you were here."

"Oh...yes...well…" He gave a nervous cough. "Give me a minute. I'll be right out."

Louisa disappeared into his room with the towel and Martin quickly began to wash. His mind was whirling. Louisa was ten feet away from him and it made his pulse race. He jumped slightly as he heard her voice on the other side of the curtain again.

"Martin...I'm cold. Can I join you?"

Martin's eyes were round as he cautiously peered out from behind the curtain. She was standing there wrapped only in a towel. She'd tied her hair up on the top of her head which accentuated her beautiful neck.

"Umm...yes..I mean...I can get out...if you just hand me that..."

"I don't want you to get out." Louisa dropped the towel and Martin's heart almost stopped. My God she was perfect. Every inch of her. He swallowed hard as she slowly opened the curtain and stepped into the shower. He felt paralysed by her proximity. The steam enveloped them like a soft veil as she stepped closer until they were almost touching. He went weak. Involuntarily his arms went around her and Louisa relaxed against him, her arms around his waist and her cheek against his chest. The water cascaded over their bodies, warm and soothing.

"This feels so good." she murmured against his skin.

"Mmm...yes." It almost didn't feel real. How could this be happening? Little more than twenty four hours ago he didn't even know where Louisa was and now she was here - naked, in his arms, in his shower in Portwenn. Martin put his fingers under her chin and turned her face up. She looked so soft, so beautiful. Then, as if in slow motion, she slid her arms around his neck and drew his head down and their lips met in the most exquisitely tender kiss. It's sweetness robbed him of his breath and he felt such overwhelming tenderness for her that she must surely feel it. Every cell in his body responded to the feeling of her body against his. He felt her hands slide down his back to come to rest on his hips.

He kissed her again, this time with more intensity and she responded. When they parted they were both breathless and he murmured, "Maybe we should…umm..."

"Yes…" Her face was flushed and her eyes were locked on his.

They got out the shower and he quickly picked up his towel and wrapped it around his waist. Then he took the towel she'd draped around her shoulders and gently rubbed her dry before bending his head to kiss her. His fingers found the elastic in her hair and gently tugged at it until her hair tumbled down around her shoulders. He loved it like that and he ran his fingers through it as his kiss deepened. When they eventually parted she took his hand and led him through to the bedroom.

They made love slowly and tenderly, taking their time with one another - savouring each touch, each movement, each whispered word. Their bodies were melded together as if they'd never been apart. They moved together in a perfect slow dance of love until they eventually reached that place of no return where they clung together, gasping each other's names as if they needed to be rescued from the intensity of their passion. Then they tumbled over the edge and surrendered themselves to one another.

At last they finally lay quietly together. Louisa's hair was splayed out over his chest and her body was wrapped around his. She was asleep, her breath soft against his neck. He felt sated and gloriously sleepy and his mouth lifted in a faint smile in the darkness of the room.

There were many thoughts and emotions fighting for his attention but the overriding one was that he felt as if he belonged. Even if it was just for this moment in time. He felt that an emptiness had been filled and that he mattered to her. More than that...he felt an overwhelming love for her. The six months without her in his life had been hell. He'd hovered in a kind of miserable existence where he went about his life without allowing himself to think of her too much - because it hurt. He knew they'd still have to talk about everything, but for now, as the lightning and thunder raged outside and Louisa lay in his arms, he didn't want to think of anything but her. He closed his eyes and let sleep claim him at last.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

When Louisa went downstairs the next morning Martin was making coffee. She came up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. "Good morning."

He turned around and looked down at her. She was dressed in one of his shirts. It came almost to her knees and his eyes were drawn to her legs. He leaned back against the counter top and drew her into his arms. "Morning," he murmured against her hair.

She lifted her head and leaned back slightly so she could look up at him. "I missed you when I woke up."

When he didn't say anything she tilted her head to one side and studied his face. His eyes were grey this morning. Sometimes they almost looked blue and sometimes they had a hint of green but this morning they were light grey. A faint stubble shadowed his chin and she couldn't resist and let her fingers trail over his jaw then she stood on tiptoe and gently kissed his lips. "I'll just make some tea while you're busy with your coffee thingy."

Martin grunted and turned back to the machine. Outside it was quieter after the storm the night before. Only the gulls, screeching and squabbling as they went about their morning food war, intruded on the silence.

Martin took a sip of his coffee as he watched Louisa putting a splash of milk in her tea. Her hair was still loose and cascaded over her shoulders. He still couldn't believe that she had lain in his arms all night. She looked up and smiled at him. It never failed to make his heart skip a beat, just like the first time he'd seen her smile at his interview so many years ago, even though it wasn't aimed at him.

He drained his cup and put it on the counter. "I'll just head up...and get dressed."

She put her cup down and blocked his way. Slowly she undid the sash of his dressing gown and pushed it open. He was wearing boxers and a T-shirt under it. "I like you dressed like this."

"This can hardly be classed as being 'dressed' Louisa."

"Yes I know…but I still like it." She pressed up against him and pulled his head down for a kiss and his arms went around her, pulling her close. He felt the warmth of her body through the thin material of the shirt. It felt wonderful. More than wonderful. Their kiss deepened and he heard Louisa moan softly against his mouth. All thoughts of going to get dressed fled his mind and there was only her.

Her fingers were stroking the hair at the back of his neck as he trailed his lips down the side of her jaw but she wanted to be kissed so he obliged. They were totally lost in each other.

A rapid _rat tat tat_ on the kitchen door made them jump then the door opened and Bert stuck his head in. "Hey there Doc….oh 'Lo Louisa...hope I'm not disturbing."

"What do you want Bert? And yes you are disturbing." Martin's face looked like a thundercloud. He still held Louisa to him but turned slightly so that Bert didn't quite get such a good view of Louisa clad only in one of his shirts.

"Well now Doc...it's like this see...last night after dinner I had this terrible burning sensation in my chest. Thought it wise to have it checked out." He looked knowingly at the two of them and chuckled. "Good job I didn't come to see you last night hey?"

Martin scowled and was just about to say something when Louisa patted his chest and said softly, "I'll just go upstairs..."

He grunted and tied the sash of his dressing gown as she quickly left the kitchen. He scowled even more as he noticed Bert watching her leave and his voice was even more abrupt than usual. "Do you still have burning in your chest?"

"Not really Doc…"

"What does that mean... _not really_? Either you do or you don't." Martin put his cup in the sink then pointed to the passage.

"Go and wait in the consulting room while I get dressed."

Bert shuffled past him. "Thanks Doc...sorry I disturbed your…"

"No you're not...other people's privacy has never been high on your agenda, has it?"

"Well I wouldn't exactly put it that way Doc...I would rather say it's a matter of…" Bert looked around but the room was empty and he heard the Doc taking the stairs two at a time.

When Martin got to his room, Louisa was holding her clothes up in front of her. "They're still wet. I should have hung them up but I got a bit sidetracked." She grinned at him.

"Mmm…yes," he dipped his head. "I can put your clothes in the dryer when I go downstairs."

"Thank you." Louisa came to him and wound her arms around his neck. "You're never off duty are you?"

He grunted as his arms went around her. "A doctor has a duty of care...so technically the answer is no, I'm not." He leaned down and placed a feather light kiss on her lips before he released her and went to his wardrobe. "I have to get dressed."

He was already in doctor mode, his features looked stern as she watched him disappear into the bathroom. Any hope she had of spending more time with him this morning had evaporated but she was determined to see him again later. They needed to talk.

When Martin came out of the bathroom he was already half dressed. She sat up on the bed watching him put his tie on using the mirror on the wardrobe door. Then he shrugged into his jacket. He looked as immaculate as ever and it tugged at her heart.

He came to the side of bed and picked up his watch from the bedside pedestal, his eyes on her as he strapped it on. Then he sat down beside her and took her hand. It reminded her of another time he'd done that. Her heart had almost stopped with anticipation but then he'd spoilt it. She so hoped he wasn't about to do the same again.

"Umm...shall we see each other later?"

"Yes...I'd like that. My place?"

"Yes. I have to see to Bert then check up on Jacks...err...Jennings in Truro. So it will only be late this afternoon."

She nodded. His eyes were soft and his voice velvety. It never failed to make her melt inside. She tugged at his hand and he leaned forward and their lips met in a tender kiss. Then he stood up quickly and left the room and she heard his footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

"Bert! _Bert!_ Where the devil are you?"

Louisa rolled her eyes at Martin bellowing downstairs.

"I was just in the lav Doc...a man can only hold it…"

"Come come come - get a move on. I haven't got all day."

"I bet you haven't, my lover." chuckled Bert.

"Shut up Bert and go into the consulting room. This better be good."

The door slammed and there was silence at last.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	4. Chapter 4

Joan Norton relaxed back in her easy chair and sipped her sherry. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth and Muriel Steele, her friend of many years sat opposite, mesmerised by the dancing flames. They'd both travelled down from Portwenn to St Ives for a few days for the Christmas holidays and had thoroughly enjoyed their time with their friends. She and Muriel had opted to stay at a bed and breakfast near to Sue Spargo who was hosting the Christmas get together. Sue had her sister Connie from Australia staying with her for a month. They all had a lot in common, not the least of which was that they were all widows, all had spent many years in Cornwall, in and around Portwenn and all had children that they were concerned about. Well Joan knew she didn't really qualify as a mother but Martin was like a son to her and she cared very much about him.

She wondered how his Christmas day had been. He'd looked quite uncomfortable when she'd taken the little Christmas tree around to the surgery. To Martin Christmas was just another day and she could still hear him grumbling about the spate of patients he would be seeing in the days following Christmas. "Over indulgence! Every year it's the same. It's not surprising they end up with indigestion and God knows what else when they drink themselves silly and eat things they don't usually eat in ridiculous quantities."

"Well of course they do Martin - it's Christmas!"

"What's that got to do with it? It's something that could easily be avoided if they didn't behave like idiots."

"Oh stop complaining, that's what doctors are for...aren't they?"

"What? For treating idiots?" Martin had glowered at her from across the kitchen. Yes he had to treat them on a regular basis but why did they never listen to him? They should learn from the experience, not repeat it over and over.

Joan had finished putting the last golden ball on the little tree. "What will you do for Christmas? You know you are most welcome to come to St Ives. Sue would love to see you."

"No thank you...all that inane chatter, too much food, too much alcohol and too much soppy nostalgia..."

"Nice to hear you being your bright and cheerful self as usual Martin."

"Yes…mmm."

Joan sighed as she put her sherry glass on the little table next to her and stared into the fire. She loved Martin but he frustrated her no end. If only he would relax a little. She smiled inwardly. Joe Penhale had let her know that Louisa was in the village and that Martin had been at her cottage on Christmas day, so maybe he had relaxed a little. She'd been delighted to hear that Martin and Louisa had spent the day together but she also worried about how Martin had behaved. He had a habit of speaking before he thought things through and he was in danger of mucking things up again because he was nervous. The gossip was that he'd had Christmas lunch with Louisa but then he'd been called down to the harbour to attend to a patient. She hadn't yet heard what happened after that. Someone was bound to let her know sooner or later.

Muriel looked across at Joan.

"What's on your mind Joan? Looks like you need another sherry."

"No thank you - maybe later. I was just wondering how Martin was getting on."

Muriel eyed her friend. She'd never made any bones about what she thought of Martin. "That nephew of yours? Can't see him being invited to any Christmas festivities."

Joan pursed her lips. She didn't like it when others were nasty about Martin. If she criticised him that was one thing but she didn't like it when others did.

"He wouldn't go even if he were invited. Martin is not one for socialising."

"Could've fooled me - I thought he was the life of Portwenn's social scene," Muriel chuckled.

"Marty is different Moo. But he is a kind man...a sensitive man…"

"Sensitive? You wouldn't say that if you heard some of the things he comes out with."

"I do hear the things he comes out with...and in my opinion some of them need saying...especially when people play Russian Roulette with their health."

"No need to get so defensive dear. I know he's a good doctor but what he really needs is a woman in his life. Someone to mellow him out a bit." She sipped her wine. "Pity he messed it up with Louisa."

Joan felt a flicker of annoyance. "They both messed it up. It wasn't just him. - not by a long shot. And I am always the first to tell Martin when he's been wrong."

"They were unsuited. My Danny was a better match for Louisa than Martin ever was...I don't know what she saw in him."

Joan thought about that for a moment. From the very beginning she could tell that they were attracted to one another. Martin had definitely been smitten with the girl. She'd never seen him hover and act like an awkward teenager around anyone. But she'd had to give him a shove when Danny had come back to Portwenn and had shown renewed interest in Louisa. It was as if Martin had lost all his confidence around her. When he did speak all he managed to do was get her back up, the stupid boy! But she knew one thing was as plain as daylight and it was that one thing that made all the difference in the world.

"No matter what went on between them, I know this much - they truly love each other."

Muriel looked sceptical.

"Yes Moo...present tense. They still love one another. It's one of the great mysteries of the universe, isn't it? That two polar opposite personalities can love like that."

"So why the big break up then? Right at the last minute too. Caused no end of speculation, didn't it? And he just carried on as if nothing had happened." She sniffed with derision. "Thickest skin I've ever encountered."

Joan knew Martin had been anything but immune to what had happened but he had shut down and refused to talk about it. And of course with both Martin and Louisa being tight lipped, speculation had been rife. Everyone just assumed it was Martin's fault. She'd gone to talk to him the day after the non-wedding but all he would say was that the decision had been mutual. He wouldn't elaborate no matter how much she badgered him for more detail.

As the days passed she tried to keep an eye on him. She took him cooked meals which she was sure went uneaten. And then the news began to spread that Louisa had resigned from the school and was leaving Portwenn. It happened so suddenly. Within two days Louisa was gone and she watched Martin begin to unravel. After his initial shock he'd withdrawn and seemed to become even more aloof than ever. He wouldn't talk when she asked him how he was holding up. He just said, "Fine," and she eventually learned to leave it at that.

But then one day, about two months after she'd left, Louisa had phoned her. Her first reaction had been one of anger and she'd wanted to give Louisa a piece of her mind for just disappearing like that without even saying goodbye. After all, she'd watched the child growing up in Portwenn. Not exactly an idyllic childhood with that scoundrel of a father and a flighty and self-centred mother. At least her father had loved her in his selfish fashion. His going to prison had almost been the undoing of the girl, but typical Louisa, she'd put her chin up and she'd gone on as if nothing was amiss. Plucky as a bantam hen that one. But she hadn't come out of it unscathed. Her childhood struggles had made her overly sensitive and needing reassurance all the time. Joan was sure that that was what had attracted her to Martin from the get go - him being so in charge, his confidence, his being so self assured and seemingly immune to what people thought of him. That and his integrity. _He_ wouldn't be like her father.

After Louisa had told her all about London, she'd asked after Martin. Her voice had become soft and hesitant. All she wanted to do was talk about him. Honestly the pair of them were fools. They loved each other but just couldn't make it work.

She'd relayed the news of Louisa's call to Martin when they were having supper together at the surgery and she watched his head shoot up and the spark of interest appear in his eyes. How is she? Where is she? What is she doing? Is she thinking of coming back? Have you got a number? The questions were fired at her but she just shook her head. All she could tell him was that Louisa was somewhere in London and she seemed well. The disappointment on Martin's face had made him look like a schoolboy cheated out of some coveted prize. Then he'd got up from the kitchen table and disappeared into his consulting room.

Joan stared into the fire. It had died down to a lovely glow which made the room look cosy, cocooning them in its warmth as the rain beat down outside. She hoped that Martin and Louisa had managed to at least talk about things. Whatever happened between the two of them, it was never going to be easy. Two strong characters would always bump heads. Would their love be able to heal the bumps and bruises as they happened? She certainly hoped so. All she wanted was for Martin to be happy.

"I think you underestimate Martin, Moo. He's softer and more vulnerable than you realise."

"Well he does a damn fine job of hiding it. The man is as hard as nails."

"No he's not...if you only knew half the things he does for others. And I am not talking just about the medical side of things. But Martin is an Ellingham through and through - he calls a spade a spade and people don't like it."

"No they don't and I don't see why they should either. He's a doctor and having a tolerant bedside manner would go a long way to making people more accepting of him."

Joan stared at Muriel over the rim of her sherry glass. "He only cares about one person accepting him. I hope to God it happens - soon."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin's visit to Truro Hospital to see his patient hadn't gone well. He'd had to knock a few heads together when he'd found that Jennings' CT scan report was not in his patient file. He could see that the scan had been done but the report was missing.

"Where is it?"

The young nurse standing next to him looked like a rabbit caught in headlights. "I don't know Doctor Ellingham...it must be here…"

"Well clearly it's not, is it? Find it…"

The nurse opened her mouth to say something but Martin's frustration boiled over.

"Now... _immediately_!"

"Yes Doctor." And the nurse scurried off looking flustered.

While he waited Martin read through the rest of the patient notes. Everything looked as it should, given the injuries. Nothing was jumping at him except the missing report. Incompetence that's what it was.

Just then the doctor on duty walked in. He was a young registrar and clearly nervous knowing that he was in the presence of one of the most famous surgeons in Britain. Of course he knew that Ellingham was no longer a practicing surgeon but the stories of his achievements were still legendary in medical circles. The man had been the best until, almost overnight, he'd retired from surgery and inexplicably gone into general practice. A lecturer at his medical school had lamented that if only Ellingham had opted to teach, hundreds of students would have had the benefit of his genius. The only drawback to that was Ellingham's lack of people skills. His impatience was legendary and the registrar was about to find that out first hand. Ellingham's brows met over his nose in a deep frown. It was not a good sign and the registrar swallowed hard.

"Good morning Mr Ellingham, I believe you are…"

"It's Doctor Ellingham now...where is the CT scan report?"

"It was emailed to me and to the nurses' station so it should have been printed and put in the file."

"Well it's not there." Martin sighed in frustration. "What did it say...give me a summary." His voice was curt.

The registrar rattled off the details while Ellingham glared at him. He'd never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

After examining Jennings and discussing his patient's regime with the registrar Martin left the hospital and took a slow drive back to Portwenn. The roads were streaming with rain and visibility was poor. He was thankful that there were hardly any other vehicles on the roads. At last he pulled his car into the space next to the surgery. It had just gone two o'clock and he was hungry. A bit late for lunch but some fruit and a cup of coffee would tide him over. He got out of the car and reached into the back for his medical bag and had just shut the car door when his mobile rang. What now? He reached for it as he hurried towards the kitchen door. "Ellingham." he barked into the phone.

"I thought I would wish you a belated Merry Christmas. How was your day?"

"Mmm...Aunty Joan...yesss...Merry Christmas and all that. My day was fine…"

"More than fine I hear. How is Louisa?"

Martin was completely taken aback and he spluttered, "Good God - the villagers' aptitude for spreading gossip is unbelievable. Who told you about Louisa?"

"Does it matter Marty? Tell me you had a nice lunch."

Martin dropped his medical bag on the floor of the consulting room then went back to the kitchen. "Yes...we had a nice lunch thank you." He switched on the coffee machine.

There was a slight pause. "Oh come on Martin! How did things go with Louisa?"

"It's really none of your business Aunty Joan...or anyone else's for that matter." He sounded petulant.

"It went that well, did it?" Aunty Joan chuckled knowingly. "I am not surprised you two couldn't keep your hands off of one another."

" _Aunty Joan!_ You can't just assume…"

"Alright alright Marty, keep your hat on." She chuckled again. "Judging from your reaction it must have gone very well indeed. You can stop blushing now."

"Very funny."

"Are you seeing Louisa again today? I hope you don't get called out again. I thought you were supposed to be off duty over the Christmas weekend?"

"Yes...but a doctor has a duty of care if he is approached for help."

"Well mind that you and Louisa get some quality time together. I am sure there's lots to talk about...and other things to take care of."

" _Aunty Joan_ …really!"

"And Marty...don't mess it up. Keep your mouth shut unless you have something nice to say...in fact don't say anything - just make Louisa feel special."

"Yes… thank you Aunty Joan...that's very helpful…"

"Good bye Marty - I'll see you the day after tomorrow and I expect to hear some good news."

Martin grunted and rang off. His scowl deepened as he put the phone in his pocket. There really was no privacy whatsoever in Portwenn. Even his aunt, staying in St Ives, knew exactly where he'd been on Christmas day and that Louisa had spent the night with him at the surgery. That was Bert's doing he was sure. The man had no decency.

Martin made an espresso and sat down to peel an apple. Once he'd eaten and freshened up he would go to Louisa. He felt his heartbeat increase at the thought. He wanted so much to be with her but he knew they had things to talk through; things that could make or break their relationship forever. It made him nervous and when he was nervous he tended to blurt out things that were best left unsaid. He would just have to be extra vigilant and not let that happen.

He drank the last of his coffee and got up to rinse the cup. All he knew was that if they couldn't work something out and they couldn't be together, his life would be empty forever, just like it had been for the last six months; just like it had been before he met Louisa. He couldn't bear it. Best not to think along those lines now.

He took the stairs two at a time and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he dried his face he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked anxious even to his own eyes. He sighed. Pull yourself together Ellingham. He tugged at his collar and straightened his tie. Time to go. With one last look, he squared his shoulders and headed for the stairs.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks to all who have left comments and sent me PMs - as always they are very much appreciated. Your feedback is encouraging**.


	5. Chapter 5

"Afternoon Doc. Merry Christmas."

"Yesss…." Martin didn't slow his pace as he swept past Dawn Lamb who was putting a bag into her wheelie-bin and his expression quickly deteriorated from its habitual stern frown into a scowl. The word would be out in a nanosecond that he was on his way to Louisa again. He quickened his pace up the hill. It was spitting with rain and the breeze was icy as he approached White Rose Cottage. He knocked and Louisa immediately opened the door and stood aside to let him in.

He coughed self-consciously as he straightened up and turned to her. "Hello."

"Hello Martin."

She looked up at him expectantly and he realised she was waiting for him to greet her 'properly' as she had often asked him to in the past. He bent down and kissed her cheek and her face broke into a smile. She was pleased and his spirits lifted and some of his apprehension started to ease as she walked past him into the kitchen.

"How is Frank?"

"Frank?" Martin frowned.

Louisa turned and stared at him incredulously, her eyebrows raised. "Frank Jennings...harbour accident?...Truro Hospital?"

"Yes...right...Frank Jennings. Umm...I can't discuss my patients…"

"I'm not asking you to Martin - I just want to know how he is."

Martin could never understand why people asked him that. He couldn't say that a patient was 'fine' when they were not. And he couldn't elaborate on why they weren't fine or he would be breaking doctor-patient confidentiality. What was he supposed to say? He cleared his throat. "He's in hospital...umm...and in good hands."

Louisa's expression told him that he'd said the wrong thing so he cleared his throat softly and continued.

"Umm...if all goes as anticipated, he should be...errr...fine. Mmm."

"Thank you Martin. Was that so hard?"

He dipped his head and tugged at his ear as he watched her fold a drying cloth and hang it over the oven door handle. Then she tilted her head to the side as she looked at him.

"So...I think we should talk...you know...about..."

"Yes." Her words set his nerves on edge again. Talking always got him into trouble. _Keep your mouth shut unless you have something nice to say._ He could hear Aunty Joan's voice as if she were standing right next to him. It was unnerving.

Louisa leaned against the counter top. "When do you expect to hear about the job at Imperial."

"Robert said it would be within a month or so. They obviously have to interview other candidates, then make a selection."

"How do you think the interview went?"

Martin stared at her. How was he supposed to answer that? He knew Robert wanted him back but the others on the selection panel had been a bit more cautious. They were concerned about his haemophobia. Robert had grilled him about that before he'd even gone up to London. They'd spent half an hour on the phone and Martin had told him about the therapy sessions and that it was going well. Robert had cut to the heart of it.

"But will you be able to open up a patient and get on with the job without passing out or vomiting?"

Martin had hesitated. The reality was that he didn't know. The affliction had completely side-swiped him and even after all the intervening years his dramatic reaction to blood had not diminished. It was a visceral, spontaneous reaction and the therapy, when he'd finally admitted to himself that he needed help, was hard. It made him confront his problem head on and he'd always leave his sessions exhausted and sometimes disheartened because he just couldn't get to the root of it all. His therapist had suggested that the cause lay not in the operating theatre but much further back in his childhood. Ridiculous. But studies showed that the probability of it being true was high. He'd wracked his brains to try and remember any incidents that involved blood in his childhood but nothing came to mind. Whatever the cause, he would have to buck up if he wanted to be ready to take on the job at Imperial, so he had increased his sessions to twice a week.

The humiliation of the first time the haemophobia had reared its head could still make him cringe. He'd been to see a patient in the ward prior to operating on her. She was seriously ill and urgent intervention was necessary to prevent her going into full cardiac arrest. But the procedure was routine for him; nothing complicated at all. He arrived in the ward earlier than expected and the patient's family were all around her bed as he strode in with the ward sister in tow. He'd been irritated that there were other people there. Damned inconvenient.

His eyes flicked over the group. The patient's young son was clinging to her and crying and the patient was trying to reassure the boy as she smiled wanly up at him. "See darling, this kind doctor is going to make sure I'll be just fine."

Martin had kept his expression neutral as the family all stared at him, each hoping for some small word of reassurance from him. The child was terrified. Martin could feel the barely controlled panic and, almost imperceptibly, something shifted in him; something he'd never felt before in his entire career as a surgeon - he felt an emotional connection with the patient. She wasn't just a surgical case anymore, she was that little boy's mother; that man's wife; and by the similarity in features, the other woman's sister. This woman was loved. She mattered to them. If the operation wasn't a success they would soon have to live the rest of their lives without her.

He was unable to utter a single word of reassurance even though something deep down was trying to find those words. In the end he'd just grunted an acknowledgment as he turned his attention to the file in his hands. He could feel their eyes on him as he wrote up his notes, then without looking at the patient or her family again, he turned and left the ward.

The next time he'd seen the patient she'd been prepped and laid out on the table ready for him to begin the procedure. He'd stared down at her over the top of his surgical mask and he'd tried to focus on the task at hand. Everyone was waiting for him to begin but he'd hesitated and the moment seemed to last an eternity. All he could see in his mind's eye was the little boy clinging to his mother and the fear in her husband's eyes as he'd looked from his wife's pale face and blue lips to him for reassurance. And suddenly his supreme confidence in his abilities didn't seem at all sure anymore. What if things went wrong?

He'd closed his eyes and the theatre sister had asked if he was alright. "Yesss…" he'd snapped at her and held out his gloved hand. "Cannula." He concentrated as he went to work and watched as blood began to well up around the small wound. It was quite normal but as he watched it trickle down the patient's skin and onto the sheet below he hesitated. His gloved fingers holding the cannula in place were red with blood. Martin's vision began to dim and his ears started buzzing, his limbs felt heavy as he clutched at the side of the operating table and then….nothing.

When he came around he was lying on the floor of the operating theatre with the anaesthetist slapping his cheek. "Ellingham... _Martin!_ Can you hear me?" He blinked in confusion, trying to bring everything into focus. They'd eventually got him into a sitting position and when he'd looked over towards the operating table and seen the smears of blood on the linen covering the patient he'd promptly vomited. He'd had to be relieved in theatre and he'd gone home thinking he was coming down with something.

But then a few days later it happened again. He'd been called to the A&E to assess an MVA victim whose legs had been severely injured. He'd looked down at the unconscious patient and his mangled legs and the room began to spin and his mouth filled with saliva as the nausea threatened to overwhelm him. His heart was racing and his vision began to blur as he gripped the side of the gurney. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he tried to control his breathing as the A&E sister leaned over. "Are you alright Mr Ellingham? Would you like to sit down for a moment?"

"No...no...thank you." His voice had sounded shaky even to his own ears. It was then that he realised with growing panic that his episodes had nothing to do with a brewing bout of influenza or some other such thing. This was something much more serious.

"Martin?"

Martin came back to the present and focused on Louisa as she looked quizzically at him.

"Uh…yes...the interview...umm...it went as expected. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"I meant, did you get a sense that you stood a good chance of getting the position?"

Ordinarily Martin would have said without hesitation or conceit, "Of course," but this time he wasn't so sure. There were some on the panel who'd never been particularly fond of him. One of them, a cardiac surgeon nearing retirement, had been quite hostile toward everything Martin had put forward in the interview. He reminded Martin of his father.

"I don't know. It's hard to tell at this stage - I don't know who the other candidates are."

"Are you worried that the blood phobia will count against you?"

Martin blinked. Of course he was. Anyone in their right mind would have to consider it a liability. The only thing going for him was his former reputation as a surgeon and his excellent track record as a GP.

"Yes."

"Oh Martin." Louisa came to him and slipped her arms around his waist. She leaned back and looked into his eyes. "That must be very stressful for you."

Martin held her to him. Nothing mattered when he was with her. "Mmm…"'

"Have you thought of what you will do if you don't get the position?"

Yes he'd thought about it. He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

"If I don't get the job at Imperial...I will look at other options. I won't stay here."

"Oh…"

He shrugged. "I can't go on like this...staying here...in this…. _place_...if you're not here."

Louisa's eyes were soft as she reached up and stroked his cheek then she drew his head down until their lips met in a gentle, feather-light kiss. When they drew apart she took his hand and led him to the sofa and drew him down to sit beside her, still keeping his hand in hers.

"What if I came back?"

Martin stared at her. What was she saying?

Louisa could see he was confused.

"While I was away I had a lot of time to think...about us. And the longer I was away, all the things that seemed to matter so much at the time we broke it off didn't matter anymore. I missed you so much and it made me homesick. I knew if I came back I would at least see you."

Martin felt his heart skip a beat. She'd wanted to see him just as he longed to see her every time he left the surgery and walked down Roscarrock Hill. Every day he would look over at the school as if by some miracle she would be standing at the gate talking to parents as they dropped their children off at school. Or she'd be at the grocers or the chemist. It seemed ironic that she wanted to come back, just as he was on the brink of leaving. Would she still come back if he was no longer the village GP? Did she really want to be with him or did she just want to be in Portwenn and... _see_ him…sometimes?

"What if I...got the job?"

Louisa frowned. "I don't know. Would you take it? I mean...you just said you only wanted to leave Portwenn because you couldn't stand to be here if I wasn't here." She cocked her head. "Would you stay if I were here?"

He rubbed his hands together, a thing he did when he was nervous. He felt for the ring on his right hand and twisted it as he stared out of the patio doors at the wisps of mist hanging over the cliff face opposite.

He had looked forward to the possibility of going back into surgery when he'd realised that Louisa was not coming back. It seemed the logical thing to do. It had been his passion and he was a good surgeon but he was also a good GP and being a GP was sometimes more challenging because of the variety of illnesses and conditions that presented themselves in his consulting room on a daily basis. Yes there were days that were mind-numbingly boring with the endless stream of coughs, ingrown toenails and attention seeking malingerers but there were also interesting, difficult cases where a diagnosis wasn't so straightforward - and that is what made general practice interesting to him. He still had the disposition of a surgeon though. It was difficult to shake. He had little patience with histrionics and the unerring desire of his patients to second-guess his diagnosis or his advice. If he had a pound for every time he heard the phrase, "I looked it up on Google", he could have retired already.

He looked at Louisa as she sat with her legs curled up underneath her. Being so close to her felt so good but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough that she'd said that she wanted to see him and that she had missed him. He needed more.

"Louisa...if you came back...and I stayed...what would our relationship be?" His voice was soft and velvety.

She blinked and looked a little taken aback. "Well...I was hoping we could...you know...be together…"

"What do you mean by 'be together'?" His gaze was unwavering.

"Together...as in…" She huffed out an exasperated breath and waved her hands. "You know what I mean Martin…"

"No I don't. What do you mean? Together as in...lovers? Or…"

"Or…?"

Neither of them wanted to say it. _Or as husband and wife._

The last time they'd agreed to marry it had been such a disaster. Everything that could possibly happen to scupper their big day, had happened. Even the weeks leading up to the wedding had been fraught with tension, not only because of planning the wedding but also because they were trying to navigate the insecurities and awkwardness in their newly intimate relationship. Even just trying to spend time alone together had seemed like an impossibly difficult and frustrating task. And then there were the jokes. "Did you give Louiser a magic potion Doc?" It was meant to be benign ribbing but it struck a painful note as he heard his father's mocking voice: " _You'll have to drug 'em to keep 'em."_ Was he such an unlikable and unlikely candidate for a husband? Louisa hadn't believed that. Or so he'd thought. But then things changed.

"I don't want a repeat of what happened before. So I want to know where you stand…with me…is it to be a casual relationship? Or...something else."

Louisa uncurled her legs and sat up straight. "Casual?"

He opened his mouth but before he could speak she went on.

" _Casual_? I am not sure I understand what you mean. Is that what you want Martin? A casual relationship?"

"Nooo…no. It's just that you said you want to _see_ me - I want to know what you mean by that. You once told me that I couldn't make you happy and you left without us having a chance to talk about why that was. Not really anyway. So if those issues still exist…how can we contemplate a serious relationship?"

Louisa sat back and rested her head against the back of the sofa. She toyed with a strand of her hair before she looked at him again.

"You're right, we didn't talk about it properly and that's exactly what I said in my letter to you."

Martin's expression was pensive and his eyes soft. "In another letter you wrote me, you said you loved me...but our differences were too great. Is that still true?"

"We have differences...yes. We see the world through very different eyes but the truth is...when I am not with you I feel like there's part of me missing. And I don't want to live the rest of my life without knowing that I at least tried to make it work between us." She stroked his cheek with her fingers. "And yes...I do still love you Martin and...I don't want a casual relationship with you. I want much more than that - if you are willing to try too." She took his hand and laced her fingers through his. "Are you?"

The ball was in his court. He found himself searching her face. Was he? God yes. He too had felt like a part of him was missing when she left. Many a night he'd lain in bed listening to the waves crashing on the breakwater, wondering how he was going to live the rest of his life without her. Wondering how he was going to live the rest of his life knowing she would more than likely marry someone else. It almost drove him crazy. The only thing that had stopped him setting out to find her was knowing that she just didn't want him in her life.

But now she was here and had just told him that she still loved him. And he? He'd never stopped loving her. From the moment he'd met her at his interview and realised she was the woman from the plane, he'd known he loved her. She'd ripped the breath right out of him as their eyes met. There could be no-one else. He looked at her sitting next to him, her soft lips slightly parted and her beautiful eyes watching him, waiting for him to say something.

He reached out and stroked his fingers over her cheek and down to cup her chin. "I'm willing to try."

Louisa smiled tremulously but before she could embrace him he stopped her.

"Louisa...I'm a difficult man and I don't always understand...people. I'm afraid that you will grow frustrated with me when I don't…"

Louisa put her fingers on his lips. "Shhhh...you don't have to defend yourself Martin. You are not the only one who has trouble communicating properly. I realise I am just as guilty. And if we are both aware of it then it's half the battle won...don't you think?"

"Mmm...yes."

He leaned forward until his mouth found hers and they kissed slowly and tenderly. He trailed his lips down her jaw and buried his face in her neck.

"Marry me," he whispered against her skin. "Please Louisa...I love you so much...will you marry me?"

He was almost afraid to lift his head and look at her. But then he felt her arms go around his neck and she leaned into him.

"Oh Martin...yes."

Martin's heart was beating so fast he felt short of breath. "You will?"

"Yes. I want to marry you. I don't want to be apart from you anymore."

Martin pulled her closer and they kissed again, a slow and achingly sensuous kiss that left them hungry for more. Louisa pulled back slightly. "I have a stipulation though."

Martin groaned inwardly. "What?" he asked cautiously.

"I don't want the whole village to know we are getting married until after the wedding."

Martin looked taken aback. Louisa had been the one who had previously wanted a 'proper' wedding day with all the bells and frills. He'd gone along with it and had felt more and more bewildered as the days went by. He didn't want a repeat of that. He was perfectly alright with a private and low-key ceremony. He would have been the last time too.

"Yes of course. Otherwise we'll have the whole village gawping and freeloading on our…"

"Mar- _tin._ That's not the reason I want to keep it quiet."

Martin tucked his chin in and coughed slightly, "Oh...yes...well I was only saying…"

Louisa took his hand again. "As much as I wanted and still want a dream wedding day, I realise how much pressure there is and…" She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers gently. "I don't want people interfering and being negative around us this time."

"Mmm...yes...neither do I." He leaned forward and sought Louisa's mouth, teasing her lips between his and sliding his hand to cup her neck as he pulled her closer. She sighed softly as her lips parted beneath his and their kiss deepened. The world seemed to recede as they touched and whispered to one another.

Much, much later as they lay in each other's arms Martin felt Louisa's hand softly stroking his chest and he felt a deep contentment. Whatever the future held, they had each other. He knew the journey would be rocky but they had both committed to making it work. They still had a lot of decisions to make but they'd make them together. He turned his head to look at her lying in the crook of his arm, her soft hair splayed out over his chest and pillow. She was looking at him.

"What are you thinking, mmm?" Her voice was husky.

He stroked her shoulder. "I was thinking that when I am with you, nothing else matters. Not the phobia, not the job in London, not the village idiots…"

"Mar- _tin_."

"What?"

"See now, that's the kind of comment you might want to think about before you say it out loud...don't you think?"

"But Louisa...they _are_ idi…."

Martin's words were stifled as Louisa covered his mouth with hers. His arms went around her and pulled her gently so she was lying on top of him. They kissed until they were both breathless.

His voice was soft and his eyes half closed as he stroked the hair from her face. "Am I going to get chastised like this every time I say something wrong? Because if..."

Louisa looked down at him. "Don't get ideas Dr Ellingham. This isn't chastisement...it's more an encouragement...to say nice things."

He pulled her down so he could bury his face in her neck. "Ahh - I see." He let his fingers trail down her back and come to rest on her hips. "I can say nice things…"

"Mmm...I know...and I like what you say when we are making love…" She kissed his lips. "I like it a lot...but actually I was referring to…"

This time it was Martin who smothered her words with his mouth. His whole body was alive to her, needing her, wanting her and as they joined as one he knew he couldn't exist without her by his side. And he knew he would do anything to make it work between them. Anything.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Apologies for the long delay between chapters. Thanks to all for the reviews and the PMs - as always I love to read them and find them very encouraging.**


	6. Chapter 6

**EPILOGUE**

The sound of Louisa humming softly caused Martin to pause as he reached the landing at the top of the stairs. A gentle soapy fragrance hung in the air and he knew that she had already finished in the bathroom. He walked slowly towards the doorway of the softly lit bedroom and great rush of tenderness washed over him as he watched Louisa cradling their son, James Henry in her arms. He never tired of the scene and he would always make sure that he was finished with surgery in time to be there when James Henry was being bathed and dressed, ready for bed. He was six months old now. Six months, during which time Martin had been enchanted and swept off his feet by the little boy that he and Louisa had brought into the world. Nothing had prepared him for the wonder of being a father. God knows he'd had the worst role models a boy could have and during the pregnancy, he and Louisa had talked about it often. He'd been afraid that he would be like his parents and Louisa had looked at him with that no-nonsense, school teacher's expression.

"Martin...there is no way on earth that you could be anything like your parents. It's just not in you."

He'd tucked his chin in and stood with his hands clasped behind his back, not quite sure how to react to Louisa's words. Louisa had come to him and slipped her arms around his waist, her newly swelling belly pressed against him.

"I understand your concerns Martin but I know you...you are a gentle and sensitive man. You could never be cruel like your parents, I just know it. You will be a wonderful father...just as you are a wonderful husband."

In the eighteen months they'd been together they'd had some stormy moments, mostly to do with his blunt and outspoken manner but sometimes also to do with Louisa's cryptic and ambiguous expectations. Right from the beginning it had been one of the most difficult challenges for him - trying to understand what Louisa really wanted. He remembered an incident right before the wedding. It had terrified him.

"Louisa I thought you didn't want the whole wedding _...thing_. You said to keep it quiet."

"I know what I _said_ Martin but this is…" she waved her hands around, "...this is our _wedding_."

"Yes I'm aware of that." He was at a loss to understand why she was so upset as she stood looking at him with a forlorn expression on her face.

"So...umm...what now?" he'd asked cautiously, "Do you now _want_ everyone to know about the wedding and for them to attend?"

" _Noooo_ Martin! Ohhh! You just don't get it, do you?"

She had stormed off into the kitchen of the surgery and stood with her back to him.

He'd followed, hovering anxiously on the other side of the kitchen table with his hands clenched at this side and his head lowered as he watched her from under his brows. "Louisa," he'd said softly, "Please explain…I...umm..."

She'd turned slowly and he'd seen the tears welling up in her eyes and he'd been rooted to the spot, not knowing what to say or do.

"It's _the_ day all women fantasise about Martin. From the time they are little girls they dream about their fairy tale wedding day. And it's not going to be like that for us and I'm just... _sad_ about it." She sniffed. "That's all..."

"I see…" He hesitated and swallowed hard before he said softly, "If you had wanted a...a...fairy tale wedding I would have gone along with it."

"I know…"

"So what's upsetting you?"

She shook her head, unable to speak as tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks.

Martin had gone to her then and taken her in his arms, holding her until her sobs subsided.

"I'm sorry Martin...I'm just emotional right now." She sniffed again and Martin reached into his pocket for his handkerchief. He dried the tears from her face then handed it to her frowning as she scrunched it into a ball in her hand. "I know I could have had a fairy tale wedding but what we have planned is for the best." She cuddled against him seeking the comfort of his arms. "It's letting go of the dream that's making me sad..."

"Oh...right...umm...so...we're still getting married on Saturday?"

"Yes Martin...we're still getting married on Saturday."

His relief had known no bounds.

And so three months after Christmas, almost to the day, Martin and Louisa were married in a quiet ceremony in the little church at Altarnun. The only people in attendance were the vicar, the organist, Aunty Joan and Chris Parsons and his wife Helen.

Martin had watched Louisa walk up the aisle towards him, her white, calf-length dress accentuating her perfect body and his heart had melted with love for her. They'd held hands as they repeated their vows. His nervousness had made his voice sound clipped and when it was over the vicar had said, "You may kiss the bride." What? In front of everyone? Louisa had tugged at his hand and he'd leaned down and kissed her gently.

Aunty Joan had cried and Martin hugged her awkwardly then she'd pinched his cheek as if he were eight years old again. "I'm so proud of you Marty. Doctor and Mrs Ellingham. Who would have thought?" She frowned and wagged her finger at him. "You'll have to work at it though. Just remember to think before you speak…"

"Yesssss Aunty Joan." He'd looked sideways to see if anyone had overheard what his aunt had said but they were all standing talking together a little way away.

"If you are uncertain about...you know...how a woman might react to something or you need advice...ask me. Oh and don't forget anniversaries or you'll be sleeping on the sofa downstairs faster than you can say 'I'm an idiot'."

Martin's lip curled at the thought of asking his aunt for advice. "I'm not sure you would be the right person from whom I should ask advice - you are just as much an Ellingham as I am. Blunt and outspoken."

Aunty Joan had burst out laughing. "You're right but I am also a woman and I've been a wife, so the offer still stands."

Martin's mouth had twitched as he looked affectionately down at his aunt. Womanly advice aside, he was glad he could talk to her even if he didn't always get the kind of response he anticipated.

He looked over to where his wife stood talking to Chris and Helen. Chris had been with him every step of the way in his journey to this point in his life. When his blood phobia had forced him to change the course of his career it had been Chris who had encouraged him to go into general practice and had given him a heads up when the Portwenn practice had become available. He had watched Martin lose his will to stay in Portwenn when Louisa had left and had told him about the advertised post at Imperial. And it was Chris in whom he had confided about his intended marriage to Louisa - again. Chris had been happy for him and hadn't blinked an eye when Martin told him of his intention to withdraw his application for the position at Imperial. Robert Dashwood on the other hand, had been shocked and more than a little annoyed.

"You mean you _want_ to stay in Portwenn as a GP?"

Robert's tone had got Martin's back up.

"Yes I do. What's wrong with that? I find being a GP stimulating - there's variety and I am continuously challenged by the unexpected. With vascular surgery, I know...umm I knew...more or less what I would be doing every day."

Robert had tried to reason with him. "You have prospects Martin. Head of Vascular would only have been a stepping stone to bigger things. Are you sure about this?"

"Yes...I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

Shortly after Christmas, Louisa had been offered the post as head teacher at Portwenn primary school and she'd moved back from London two weeks later. They'd begun their courting all over again. This time, they made sure they planned things together. They went out for drives into the country and had dinner dates together. They walked the cliff path in fine weather and they found their way around one another when they started living together. It wasn't easy. Louisa was generally not concerned with being organised or tidy and Martin was obsessed with it. One morning after a frantic search for a governor's report Louisa had worked on the previous evening, Martin had reminded her that if she had put it with her other school documents in her satchel she wouldn't have to run around at the last minute. He was just about to continue his lecture when Louisa rounded on him, her eyes flashing.

" _Stop_ Martin! If I hear 'tidy house, tidy mind' once more I will _scream!_ "

"I'm just saying, _Louisa_ , that if you were more organised you wouldn't keep losing things and getting so upset about it."

"I know Mar- _tin!"_

He too had had to change. Louisa was chatty at the best of times and he had to learn that saying 'fine' when she asked how his day had been wasn't acceptable. He'd learnt to elaborate a bit even if he found it meaningless. Why would she want to know how many patients he'd seen or what he'd had for lunch? It had mystified him and still did. He'd also had to learn to bite his tongue when speaking about the villagers. His insulting choice of words had to be abandoned for more nondescript adjectives, like Bert being 'annoying' or Mrs Tishell being 'odd'. He knew what he really meant and so did Louisa but she was happy with his willingness to stop calling them barking mad or raving idiots. Well, in front of her anyway.

He also learnt that she liked it when he told her he loved her or that she was beautiful. It seemed to make her extraordinarily happy and seeing her light up like that made him happy too. Happy wife, happy life. Never a truer saying.

He watched her now as she kissed their son's cheek then put the little boy in his arms. He lay looking up at his father, his little hand clutching at Martin's tie. Martin's eyes were soft as he looked down at him. He brushed the backs of his fingers over James Henry's cheek, still pink from his bath and he squealed and kick his little legs.

"He's ready for his story." Louisa nodded at the easy chair in the corner of the nursery and Martin lowered himself into it as Louisa handed him a book. He didn't argue as he had done in the beginning. He remembered the conversation they'd had when James Henry was a month old.

"He's far too young to understand a story Louisa. He has no understanding of language yet."

Louisa had responded as if he were one of her Year One learners. "I am _fully_ aware of that Martin. It's not the story that matters at this point, it's the sound of his Daddy's voice. He loves your voice." She had kissed the top of his head as he'd opened the book. "And I love it too."

Louisa dimmed the light in the nursery a little more and came to sit on the arm of the easy chair as Martin began to read. It wasn't long before James Henry was fast asleep and Martin eased him into his cot and covered him with his fluffy blanket. He straightened up and put his arm around Louisa as they stood looking down at their son. Louisa rubbed his back gently, then she reached up and gave him a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Are you...umm...ready for bed now?"

It was still early but he detected a certain tone in his wife's voice.

"I wasn't..." He drew her into his arms and kissed her so thoroughly that she was breathless when he raised his head. "But I am now…"

He backed her slowly towards the landing and into their bedroom, all the while kissing her neck and mouth. When they reached the bed he lay her down and shrugged out of his jacket then slid down next to her, propping himself up on his elbow.

"I love you Louisa," he murmured, "More than you'll ever know." He cupped her jaw, his thumb stroking her skin gently.

"I know." Her fingers traced the outline of his lips. "You make me feel loved every single day."

His eyes were soft as he gazed at her. "You have given me so much...a beautiful son...love...happiness..."

She pulled his head down for a kiss and when they pulled apart she said, "You've done that for me too." She stroked the soft hair at the back of his neck. "I think we made it work didn't we?"

Martin frowned. "What?"

"Our differences."

His mouth twitched. "Mmm...sort of…"

Louisa nudged him. "What do you mean "sort of"?"

"Well ...I'm always going to be getting into trouble for being outspoken…"

"Martin I don't…"

"No...shh...shh...shh. And I will always be overprotective of you and James Henry...because being a doctor is the only way I know how to look after you." His mouth twitched. "And I will always be puzzled by some of the things you say...because sometimes they don't make any sense to me but...but if you think we're on the right track…"

Louisa slid her arms around his neck. "I do...I really do. One thing I have learnt about you is that you are no ordinary man. You're unusual...and I love that about you. I told you once before that you're an extraordinary man - and now you're my unusual and extraordinary husband."

Louisa began to unknot his tie and she felt Martin's hand slide down and pull her hips towards him. "Mmm...that's nice." Her voice was husky.

"Yes…very..."

Martin, held her to him and felt her hands gently caressing him. Even though they'd shared a bed for more than a year, he never got used to how precious it felt to hold her and make love to her, to hear her breathe his name as they lost themselves in one another. He was grateful, every day, that she'd come back to Portwenn, to seek him out so that they could pick up the pieces of their relationship and work at smoothing the rough edges. And they had. It had taken a lot of understanding and tolerance to make it work but, more than anything else, it had taken the compelling love they had for one another. They had given themselves to one another unconditionally, each trusting that the other would be there, no matter what happened between them. For the first time in his life Martin felt that he truly belonged.

He gave a deep sigh of contentment and, closing his eyes, surrendered himself to Louisa's loving arms.

 **The End**


End file.
